


Dinner

by SketchGurlie



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchGurlie/pseuds/SketchGurlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No.</p><p>Don’t say it. I know what she’s gonna say.</p><p>"The way he talks about you, I thought you were a woman at first,” she comments, adding a giggle for good measure. “I’m so sorry!”</p><p> She said it so sweetly, I can’t get angry at her. Instead, I turn to Tyrell with horror written all over my face.</p><p> He stares back at me, as if he’s daring me to say something back.<br/>-Sequel to "There He Is Again". Precedes "Vulnerable".<br/>Part 1: There He Is Again<br/>Part 3: Vulnerable<br/>Part 4: CLarity</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner

No.

 

Don’t say it. I know what she’s gonna say.

 

“The way he talks about you, I thought you were a woman at first,” she comments, adding a giggle for good measure. “I’m so sorry!”

 

She said it so sweetly, I can’t get angry at her. Instead, I turn to Tyrell with horror written all over my face.

 

He stares back at me, as if he’s daring me to say something back.  

 

Or maybe he’s just scared himself.

 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks, all curiosity in her tone. 

 

“No,” I say, and it comes out more defensive than I want it to. I feel like I’m under an investigation even though Joanna is sweeter than the expensive caramels she handed me when I first walked through the living room.

 

“Oh, well that’s certainly surprising,” she smiles, not missing a beat. “You’re quite handsome.”

 

It’s not her fault.

 

She doesn’t know her that her husband is gay, bi or whatever.  She doesn’t know that he lures people by offering them free lunch and company before he ambushes them in the bathroom with kisses.

 

I should tell her.

 

But that would be stupid.

 

“Okay,” I answer, while my eyes try not to wander in Tyrell’s direction.

 

I bet you’re wondering how I got here.

 

How I’m sitting at the table of the Wellick’s for dinner; next to a very pregnant Joanna Wellick but sitting across from Tyrell Wellick.  

 

Maybe you dozed off on the car ride here.

 

 Remember, I was picked up by Mr. X and two other suits in front of my place, after leaving Allsafe? He only greeted me with, “You’re invited to dinner,” before opening the door of a limo that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

 

I knew that I probably didn’t have a choice.  

 

“Can I take a rein-check?” I asked him.

 

“’Fraid not sir,” he relayed.

 

At least he was honest about it.

 

When I finally arrived at Tyrell’s place, I was led through where Tyrell’s wife Joanna greeted me at the entrance. She offered to take my hoodie, but I declined. I was glad she didn’t press me further about it.

 

Joanna Wellick…she’s beautiful. More beautiful than the pictures Tyrell had on his social media pages. Not only that-

 

She’s pregnant. None of their pictures showed that. Why were they hiding this?

 

Now that you’ve woken up, maybe you can help me?

 

“I’m serious, maybe I could fix you up with a relative of mine,” Joanna says eagerly, picking at her food before taking a bite.

 

She’s so enthusiastic.

 

Tyrell…He’s not saying anything.

 

He’s barely been speaking since I got here…It’s just her doing all the talking.

 

Why isn’t he-

 

Oh. I get it.

 

She dominants him.

 

She does the talking. She wears the pants in this relationship. Even when I hacked Tyrell, she was the one always giving orders to _him_ through their emails and facebook page.

 

It’s even more obvious because she creates and takes control of all of the conversations we’ve had tonight. He just nods, like I do, agreeing with her. He gives me tight smiles every so often like he’s nervous. When he’s the one at home and I’m here against my will-

Is he here against his will too?

“Elliot, tell me, can you hack me? Tyrell tells me you’re extremely talented in that area,” she tells me. “I don’t really use the computer, but I’m on my phone quite a bit.”  

She’s still excited, talking to me like we’re old friends catching up on each other’s lives. She makes me feel comfortable and overwhelmed at the same time. She’s nice. She can’t help that.

“I could-but I wouldn’t want to,” I answer, as I take a bite of my food.

I already hacked her husband, what more is there to find?

“You’re sweet Elliot. I can see why Tyrell takes to you,” she purrs. She rubs her protruding belly thoughtfully. “You’re in luck tonight Elliot, he doesn’t cook unless there’s a special occasion. We almost had Chinese food again tonight.”

He cooked for me?

I look down at my nearly finished plate.

Small white gobs of mashed potatoes nestling between almost gone pickled beets, sauerkraut and sausage.

It’s good.

Especially this reddish jam on the side that I don’t see on either of Joanna or Tyrell’s plates. It goes really well with the sausage. It’s sweet and kind of tart at the same time.

I haven’t had a homecooked meal in awhile…longer than I thought.

I thought I would have a hard time adapting to something like the concept of a homecooked meal…but I don’t.

 

 ~Mr. Robot~

 

Joanna passes the time asking me more questions. Tyrell only replies with a head nod or quick one word answers.

Suddenly, Joanna mumbles something other than English across the table to Tyrell quickly.

She sounds American when she speaks English, but Tyrell still has somewhat of an accent if you listen hard enough.

 

I notice, she speaks to him in one language, Danish, and he answers almost timidly in Swedish.

 

I don’t understand either language, or have a hint as to what they’re saying to each other but-

 

Where was google translate when I needed it the most?

 

“Oh, excuse me Elliot. Where are our manners?” Joanna tsks, covering her mouth in surprise. “We get so used to our routines in our native tongues.”

 

“It’s okay,” I offer, filling my mouth with food again. When I look at Tyrell he’s busy sipping wine while keeping his eyes trained on me.  “I don’t mind.”

 

Are you nervous? I know, it’s obvious that I am even though she’s being so welcoming to me.

 

She’s so sweet…not pretend sweet. At least I don’t think.

 

I know I’m saying it a lot, but can you blame me?

 

Someone who opens you to their home with candy, and a meal prepared by their husband can’t be evil. Even though, I wonder, how did she bring herself to be with someone like Tyrell.

 

When I finish my plate, I excuse myself to clean it in the sink.

I don’t notice Joanna following behind me.

 

I know I created you and all, but it would have been nice if you warned me.

 

“Leave that in the sink, Tyrell will take care of it,” Joanna tells me. I hear her open and close a cabinet from beside me.

 

“I just think I should-”I begin.

 

“Elliot,” she says, smiling at me.  “What kind of hosts would we be if our guests did the dishes? Put that down.”

 

The kind of hosts that kidnap their guests?

 

She doesn’t even know, does she?

 

Tyrell probably told her he asked me and that I said yes.

 

Her only exploit could be her control over Tyrell and no one else. She couldn’t possibly know about this too.

 

“Okay, you’re right,” I reply, leaving the plate in the sink.

 

I face her, then look around as to try not to stare at her so much again.

 

She’s holding a jar of pickles, along with a thin silver fork.

 

Joanna jabs her fork into the jar, pulling out a pickle to crunch on. While she chews she shrugs at me.

 

“I don’t know why but I crave pickles this time of night,” Joanna comments. “When you get married your wife will probably go through the same thing.”

The fork she uses looks really sharp.

 

Shit.

 

_shitshitshitshit._

 

She’s gonna kill me with that thing.

 

No wonder she and Tyrell are married.

 

She isn’t the sweet face she puts on after all.

 

She’s batshit crazy. And not in the same way with Darlene, but a slow burning batshit crazy.

 

How could I have made such a big mistake?

 

And you know, better than anyone, that I don’t make mistakes.

 

She’s gonna kill me…and Tyrell, he’s going to help her hide my body.

And their unborn child will be a witness to it all-

 

“Elliot! You _have_ to see the baby’s room,” she exclaims suddenly, making me jump out of my skin.

 

I’ve gotta get out of here.

 

“Uh, sorry, I have work in the morning-”

 

“Oh, right! Well, I hope you enjoyed visiting here. Tyrell will show you out,” she says, holding a hand on her stomach again. The movement she makes rubbing it is almost hypnotizing. “We have a special treat for you before you leave. I hope you like it.”

 

I wonder, what it’s like carrying a life inside yourself like that?

 

Do you know what it’s like?

 

“Thanks,” I comment. I turn and walk out of the kitchen.

 

She keeps her eyes on me as I leave the room and I silently thank her for not killing or hugging me goodbye.

               

~Mr. Robot~

 

When I walk through the living room Tyrell is standing near the doorway with his hands behind his back.

I walk over.

“Um, she said you have something to give me?” I ask, quietly. I can’t even look at him in the eye.

 

I wonder what it could be they wanted me to have?

 

I wonder if he’s going to try to kiss me here, in his own home, no less.

 

He says something in Swedish, kind of under his breath. The only thing I understood was my own name.

 

I look up quickly to find his pale blues watching me.

 

The expression on his face, after he said what he said…I can’t describe it well. But you’re here, you can see it too.

 

It’s like, he’s happy but trapped between happy and eager which makes him look…sad.

 

He holds a medium sized box out in front of me.

“You can open this now, or later Elliot. It’s best if you enjoy it while it’s warm, with ice cream.”

 

What the hell is this?

 

“What is it?” I inquire, taking the box carefully. I know I’m giving him a nervous glance right now, but I can’t help it.

 

I’ve been trapped here for about three hours now and this is the longest conversation I’ve had with him all night.

 

As I hold the box in my hands, I feel it has some amount of weight to it. There’s also a fruity, lightly sweet almond scent coming from it. It also feels still somewhat warm to the touch.

He wouldn’t be giving me a bomb… would he?

“Elliot,” he chides, chuckling a bit as he shakes his head. That’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh all night. For some reason, hearing it makes me breathe a bit easier. “It’s not a bomb. It’s Tuppakaka. An almond pastry or cake. I made it with Joanna. I added a jar of Lingonberry jam in the box because I noticed you liked eating it during dinner. Tell me what you think after you’ve eaten it.”

When did he even have time to get a jar from the kitchen? Was Joanna distracting me on purpose?

 

He’s smiling at me.

 

I really _need_ to get out of here.

 

“I’ll open it later. I have to go,” I mumble, making sure to keep the box steady in my hands.

 

His smile is so genuine this time…it leaves me feeling vulnerable. Leaving my defenses vulnerable. Leaving it hard to breathe.

 

 He’s exploiting the bug he’s created in me again.

 “What do you want from me?” I whisper to him. I stare up at him and he looks sad for a split second.

“You still don’t get it, do you Elliot?”

He takes my chin between his fingers, I flinch, and he makes me look up at him.

“I’ve said it in Swedish already…should I say it in English now?”

I jerk my head from his hands, running out of the door. I don’t reply to the, “Bonsoir Elliot”, ghosting behind me.

 

~Mr. Robot~

 

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Mr. X stammers, when I almost trip entering the limo.

How long were they waiting out here?

“Just-just drive please,” I beg him, balancing the box I hold in my lap. Why haven’t I chucked it out into the street yet? It’s only further proof that anything Tyrell gives me leaves me with variable sensations I want to experience again.

 Mr. X looks at the driver and they both shrug.

We finally peel off into the street-

I finally escaped.

And, when I look out of the window-

I see Tyrell at the doorway and Joanna looking out of the window.

Their eyes seem to follow me…

I duck down, avoiding their friendly glances. More importantly, I’m trying to avoid the connection they’re trying to strengthen with me.

Why me?

 

Have you figured it out yet? ‘Cause I have.

 

I’m Tyrell’s secret.

 

I don’t think I’ve been anyone’s secret before.

 

I’m his open secret to parade around in front of his wife.

 

I’m his secret that he can take advantage of while he has to suffer being dominated by his wife.

 

Is this the reality I’ve been trying to have when I wanted to lead a bug free life? The one where co-workers invite you their homes, to meet their wives and leave you with a pastry dessert that tastes even better with the Lingonberry jam they sent me home with?

 

Or is this reality I’m already stuck in, where there’s never been an escape for me in the first place?

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this is better than my previous story ;__; lol It’s a sequel to it, please read “There he is Again,” when you have the chance.  
> Thank you for reading~


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